


2.27

by bonebo



Series: Kinktober '17 [27]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Branding, Dragon Genji, Dragon-Rider Gabriel, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: 27. Branding |Temperature Play | Stripping/Striptease





	2.27

Gabriel has been a dragon rider for most of his adult life, and yet he has never come across a creature as beautiful as the one standing in front of him now.

The scouts had captured him wild almost a week ago--a lithe beast of shimmering green and gold, long as twenty men and three men tall, with craggy horns and fangs as long as daggers--and after starving him for four days to break the worst of his spirit, they’d sent him to Gabriel.

 _For grooming_ , they say, like he hasn’t been doing this job for over a decade. Like he doesn’t know exactly what his role is. 

“Easy, boy,” he murmurs, coming up to where the dragon stands in the crossties, a thick leather muzzle fitted around his snout; he pats the beast lightly on one shoulder, and sighs at the snarl that greets him, at the way his head tosses wildly. “Easy...shh…”

He pets slowly over the dragon’s side, along the muscular length of his neck, and gently combs his fingers through the messy black mane that spills over the glimmering scales--and the beast growls, a sound low and dark like rolling thunder, and Gabriel tries to ignore it as he pulls the clean scissors from his utility apron.

“It’s alright.” Feeling the dragon stiffen beneath his hands, body pulling taut like a wire, Gabriel starts to carefully cut the beast’s mane; and he hates it, hates marring how beautiful this wild creature is, each lock of wiry black hair that flutters down to the ground taking with it a piece of his feral, untouchable spirit. Silently he works, cuting the dragon’s mane away until only a few stiff inches remain--and then comes the next part of his job.

The worst part of his job.

Gabriel walks quietly over to the small furnace beside the crossties, where the dragons and their riders have their armor forged. From the smoldering orange depths he pulls out an iron rod bearing the symbol of the stables--a broken circle, with a stylized skull in the center--and as he crosses over to the dragon’s rear haunches, he can sense how he stiffens, how his fight starts to return anew.

“Don’t struggle,” he murmurs, pleading, setting one hand on that heaving ribcage; and when the dragon’s eyes dart back to him, grey and ringed in white, Gabriel can hear his voice as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud.

_My name is Genji. Let me go. My brother will come for me._

But no dragon, beautiful or not, has ever successfully stopped him before. Gabriel still has the scars from the last time he tried to be merciful.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, he closes his eyes and presses the brand in.


End file.
